


i can't help

by deviant900



Series: RK1K Human AU [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Dog Shenanigans, M/M, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 16:30:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15889803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deviant900/pseuds/deviant900
Summary: Markus just smiled and continued to lead Connor along until, with a little experimentation, he found the rhythm and fell into step.





	i can't help

**Author's Note:**

> i'm weak for my faves slow-dancing in the kitchen. sue me. also, i lied when i said that this au was beginning to take over my life. it already has taken over. another soft bit to sate y'all while i'm planning a much longer and nsfw part. may or may not fall into the 30 prompts series, but who knows.
> 
> anyways, this one's prompt is "dance." y'all enjoy.
> 
> [song of the day: i can't help falling in love with you - khs cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ntuVM3JxZYo)

Markus leaned against the counter with a steaming cup of coffee in hand, and he watched the scene in front of him play out. Connor was standing at the stove in only a dark hoodie and a pair of boxers, pouring a mixture of milk, eggs, and salt into a hot pan, and at his feet sat Bishop, a pure black shepard with the most intense puppy eyes Markus had ever seen.

She was stock still, possibly hoping that something would fall out of the pan and into her waiting mouth. Every time Connor made a move, or looked like he was going to acknowledge her, she would shift and wag her tail before freezing again. Her blue eyes glanced over at Markus, as if hoping he would interject, before turning back to her owner.

On the counter next to their plates of bacon, Connor had music streaming from his phone. Each song was gentle and relaxing, varying instruments with melodies that set his mind at ease. At the moment, it was a soft piano solo, and Markus couldn’t imagine any place better than where he was standing.

Markus smiled as he brought the mug to his lips and took a sip.

“Don’t ignore her,” he said after Bishop whined and prodded Connor’s bare leg with her foot. “She just wants a bite.”

“Don’t encourage this,” Connor said back, giving Markus a sharp look over his shoulder. It was softened by a poorly-hidden smile that was threatening to break out on his face. “If I pay even a little attention to her while I’m cooking, she’ll start expecting food from me. I let my dad watch her for a week while I was out of town, and I came back to _this_. I’m trying to train her out of it.”

Markus watched Bishop continue her silent begging, now accompanying her best starving-to-death look with whines and high-pitched barks. Connor vocalized a harsh response back, but he kept his eyes glued to the stove as he cooked. Markus approached and scratched her chin.

The yellow mixture had began bubbling and stiffening in the pan. Markus watched Connor struggle with making what he assumed was an omelette, getting more and more frustrated with it as he cooked. He gave up eventually, stirring the half-liquid eggs around with the plastic spatula. Markus put a hand on his mouth to keep from spitting coffee on Connor and in their eggs while struggling to hold in his laughter.

His efforts did not go unnoticed, as proven by the look Connor gave him.

“Not a word from you,” he ordered before Markus could swallow the coffee in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He paused. “Can you really not make an omelette?”

“Keep talking. I’ll just feed your portion to Bishop.”

Another piano piece with a familiar melody started as Markus crossed the kitchen to set his mug down on the counter and then made his way back to Connor as he split the eggs between the two plates. Connor clicked the stove eye off and reached for his phone, but long and slim fingers wrapped around his wrist. Markus pulled Connor away. His other hand slipped around Connor’s waist to pull him closer, close enough to see his cheeks burn pink.

Markus took a step back. Connor went with him.

He looked lost, feet completely out of step as Markus lead him in a slow waltz around the kitchen. Despite his confusion, he was smiling, and he stole glances to his feet from between them. Markus pulled him closer until there was no more space, foreheads and chests touching, and clicked his tongue.

“No looking at your feet.”

“Markus, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Markus just smiled and continued to lead Connor along until, with a little experimentation, he found the rhythm and fell into step. The song ended moments later. As the final chord faded, Markus gave his phone a forlorn look, and Connor took the opportunity to lean forward and kiss him just beneath his ear. He felt the hands on him falter in their grip.

Oh, Markus thought, that was new.

He kissed Markus there again, again, and pulled him closer. Markus’s hand slid up to the back of his neck, trailing in his hair, and his breath hitched as Connor’s mouth drew down, teeth biting down and pinching the skin between them…

Suddenly, he pulled back.

“Bishop, _no_!”

Connor tore away from Markus and rushed towards the counter. Markus watched, in shock and then amusement, as Bishop turned over her shoulder from where she was perched on the counter. Realizing she had been caught red-handed, she quickly, and with surprising efficiency, chewed up and swallowed a piece of bacon. Connor made it to her as she was pushing herself off the counter, and he grabbed the back of her neck to lead her out of the kitchen. Markus could hear him calling her a “bad girl” under his breath as he released her, and she dove onto the couch.

Connor glowered as Markus laughed. Bishop looked so sad.

“Poor thing,” he said, hiding his mouth behind his hand.

“She ate your food! Don’t feel sorry for her.”

But even as he was trying to be stern with the both of them, Connor couldn’t hide his own laughter. It bubbled forth even more when Markus wrapped an arm around his waist and rested his head on Connor’s shoulder.

“Come on, I’ll help you cook this time.”

“Or,” Connor offered, “we could just go out.”

“We could.”


End file.
